11 ways contemplating death will help you have your best year yet
New Year’s resolutions are cute, but have you tried reflecting on your mortality?

Hello, Mortals — we’re back.
We don’t know about you, but we’re already missing that weird black hole feeling between Christmas and New Year’s, a strange and wonderful part of the year when time gets slippery, regular to-dos are held in suspended animation, and everyone forgets what day it is.
If you were lucky enough to unplug and check out a bit, we hope it gave you a period of respite, because that lovely liminal period won’t be back for another year.
By now you’re probably back at work, maybe you’ve jump-started a new workout routine, or perhaps you’re having a slow reentry. Either way, your inbox and socials have likely been flooded with both New Year’s resolutions and goal-setting content or anti-January productivity rants.
Although you’re probably somewhat over it by now, we’d like to add something different to the New Year conversation. It’s just the simple, pointed reminder: You are going to die.
Yep, we’re all gonna die. We don’t know when, we don’t know how, but we can be sure that’s where this is all going. And in fact, reminding ourselves of that inevitable reality is the best way to have our best year yet.
Contemplating death is the New Year’s resolution to end all resolutions. Why? Because it sharpens our focus, allows us to clarify what truly matters—and to craft our goals and priorities around that—anchors us in the present moment, and deepens our appreciation for all that life has to offer, right here and now.
Remembering that we are going to die goes hand-in-hand with another key realization: we have no way of knowing how much time we have left. We might die in three years, or 38 years, or a few months from now. So, what should we do with the time we have—with our one wild and precious life?
Cultivating an awareness of your own mortality is the best way to find the answer to that question. It has a way of cutting right to the chase, clearing out the bullshit, and revealing what is truly worth our time and energy—and what isn’t. It also brings a powerful urgency and motivation to making those priorities actually happen. After all, if you keep putting off what matters, you may get to your deathbed only to find that you ran out of time. Death contemplation gives us the existential kick in the pants we need to start now.
Humans have long known of the power of this practice. We’ve been contemplating death for over 100,000 years, from the earliest archeological burial artifacts to Buddhist maraṇasati, from Stoic philosophy to ancient Egyptian funerary texts, from medieval Christian manuals on the art of dying well (Ars moriendi) to Indigenous and shamanic ritual death and rebirth initiations.
It’s only in the modern Western world that we began to see this practice as depressing or morbid. We lost our relationship with death, and somewhere along the way, we stopped living fully too.
This year, we invite you—hell, we challenge you—to make daily death contemplation a part of your daily self-care routine. Think of it like existential strength training. It doesn’t have to be difficult or time consuming, and in fact it shouldn’t. (Here’s a simple Buddhist-inspired practice to get you started.)
We recommend starting there before moving on to your other goals and intentions for the New Year, and allowing this new awareness to shape the goals you have. You might be surprised what emerges from it, which may not be what you expected.
For me (Carolyn) in 2025, this led to traveling more to visit old friends, saying yes to an impromptu Burning Man invitation, finally doing the Hoffman Process, and getting off my phone and reading a LOT of books—all of which enriched my life and brought real fulfillment, connection and joy. For me (Maura) in 2025, this practice looked like writing letters to every guest who attended my wedding, hosting more in-person ‘death dinners,’ attending a MAID conference to deepen my understanding, and trying to embrace new realities of aging with grace and humor. In 2026, I’m committing to my practice of contemplating mortality even further by taking Spirit Rock Meditation Center’s A Year to Live program.
If you need any further convincing, here are 11 science-backed benefits of taking the time to think about death:
Cut through your own bullshit
Contemplating death helps you overcome excuses and stop wasting time on what’s not serving you. When you really get that you’re going to die, the reasons you tell yourself for waiting—“I’m not ready,” “Maybe next year,” “It’s not the right time”— to do something, whether it’s writing a book, traveling solo, embarking on a healing process, or building that thing you’ve always wanted—start to sound hollow. You begin to see your own avoidance for what it is: a defense against discomfort.
And if someone you loved has died, you know this in your bones. Grief has no tolerance for bullshit. It gives you permission to stop pretending, to stop performing, and to stop caring what the world thinks you should be doing. You realize how short and fragile it all is, and suddenly, you give zero fucks, in the most honest and liberating way.
To put it more precisely, research has shown that death contemplation bolsters us in setting and pursuing personally meaningful goals. Rather than wasting our time on the things that aren’t going to bring true fulfillment, we get clear on what matters, and find the courage to make it happen. No excuses.
Clarify your values
Less bullshit means more clarity. For some, an awareness of death is like putting on glasses for the first time. Suddenly, you see with striking clarity what actually matters to you. Because when you have an acute awareness that your time is precious, your priorities snap into focus. What remains are the people, places, and pursuits that feel most vital and alive.
Motivation to act
An awareness of death doesn’t just clarify what matters, it dares you to act on it, right now—giving you permission to stop living on autopilot or within societal expectations and start living in alignment with what actually feels true.
Most of us delay or never do the things we say we want to do. We say we’ll start “someday” while we wait for the fear to pass, for the timing to feel right, or for someone to give us permission. But when you truly understand that you could die tomorrow, you stop postponing, stop outsourcing your life to some future version of yourself that may or may not exist.
This is also where, sometimes, the raw YOLO energy of grief matures into something steadier. You go from “fuck it, nothing matters,” to “fuck it, this matters.”
Find a deeper purpose
Research shows that being reminded of our mortality triggers a psychological drive to seek or restore meaning in life. This is a natural and positive way to cope with existential anxiety, and it’s something that we can consciously take advantage of.
At the root of death anxiety is the fear that our life might not mean anything. It’s both a liberating and terrifying thought. But when you stop avoiding that fear and face it directly, something incredible happens: you start creating your own meaning and purpose.
You realize that meaning isn’t something you find, it’s something you make—through how you live, love, and show up when it would be easier to check out. Purpose isn’t out there waiting to be found, but rather built in the values you hold and how you express them. Contemplating death doesn’t give you control or all the answers, but it gives you tolerance for uncertainty—and what is life but not uncertain?
Be more present
When you reflect on death and fully accept that everything, and I mean everything, will ultimately be taken from you, the present moment suddenly becomes sacred. You stop living for the future and finally get that right here and now is just about as good as it gets. You can find a way to enjoy and appreciate it, no matter what’s going on. With this, your attention returns to your lived experience in this very moment. Being present becomes a gift that keeps on giving, including with better health. Less rushing and rumination means less stress running your system all day, which affects everything—sleep, digestion, patience, energy.
Gratitude
Numerous studies show that death awareness increases feelings of gratitude and appreciation for life. Like anything else rare and precious, when we remember that life is fleeting, we value it more.
Death contemplation can give you the same kind of radical perspective shift you get after recovering from illness or returning from a long trip, but without needing to get sick or fly to Bali. Suddenly, you see things differently. You wake up to what’s been there all along: the way the light moves through your kitchen, or how your dog stretches when he wakes up. Gratitude, then, is not a result of something dramatic happening, but because you remembered how temporary it all is.
And after you experience a brush with death, whether your own or someone you love, ordinary moments start to shimmer, like enjoying a cup of coffee in your favorite mug, a shared laugh with someone you love, or slipping into bed with a fresh pair of clean sheets. The regrets of your past stop holding you hostage, and the worries of the future loosens its grip, enabling you begin to actually live your life instead of just moving through it.
Stronger relationships
When you remember that one day, everyone you love will die, and so will you, your relationships change. In that sense, contemplating mortality is a way to recalibrate connection. Family or friend drama starts to feel silly, what matters gets said sooner instead of festering for years, and forgiveness comes easier. And time spent with the people you care about most stops being “someday” and becomes something you protect on purpose—calling your friends back, visiting your family more often, and actually booking that girls trip instead of talking about it for three years. Death adds intimacy, urgency, and depth to your connections in a way that nothing else can.
Empathy and compassion
Death is the great equalizer. Research shows that people who confront their mortality become aware of our shared human predicament, leading to greater empathy and compassion, as well as more prosocial behaviors (like offering help).
Knowing that we’re all going to die softens you. You realize that everyone—even the annoying person at work, the political opponent, the person who broke your heart—is carrying this same reality of mortality. There’s less space for judgment, and more room for understanding. Death contemplation levels the playing field: we’re all fragile, all temporary, and all just trying to make sense of our brief time here.
Unlocks creativity
The German writer Hermann Hesse described awareness of mortality as the “root of all art.” Contemplating death helps you realize you’re not here forever—and gives rise to an intense drive to make your own little dent on the universe, to leave something behind to say that you were here. As awareness of mortality grows, the instinct to create, help, and contribute starts to grow louder. You start asking: “What can I offer while I’m here? What do I want to say? What do I want to make?” Both the fear and the acceptance of death becomes creative fuel.
Keep your ego in check
Contemplating death humbles you (and some of us really need it more than others) because it’s a reminder that you’re not the center of the universe—and thank god for that. So the desire to impress starts to dwindle, liberating you from feeling like you need to be the smartest, best, most admired person in the room. Instead, you start to show up as a real person: flawed, fleeting, and free—laughing at yourself more, getting less defensive and less committed to being “right.” And humility makes people relax, so yes, contemlplating death can make you funnier. (Disclaimer: this one’s not scientifically proven, but we think it’s abundantly clear: confronting death puts your ego in its place).
Take more risks
Once death is no longer abstract as some distant thing that happens to older or sick people, and you understand it for what it is—unpredictable and inevitable—fear (of anything) loses its power and you start taking more risks. Risk-taking, in this context, isn’t reckless or performative; it’s vital to living a fulfilling life. Because the only thing scarier than dying is never having really lived, so you’re more likely to pursue the life you’ve been dreaming of.
Your invitation
Subscribe to Hello, Mortal to join us in dedicating one year to contemplating mortality to improve your wellbeing. Every Sunday, we send out contemplations designed to help you integrate death awareness into your daily life, and help you live well in the face of life’s impermanence.
Some of our readers turn the contemplations into a journaling ritual. Others read it once and meditate on it or carry it with them throughout the day. Either way, it’s a weekly pause to remember: You’re going to die one day—so how do you want to live right now?
— Maura & Carolyn
P.S. We respond to every email we get. If we haven’t gotten back to your email or DM, please send us another one. Sometimes they get lost in the shuffle, and Substack does not have the best UX for direct messaging.





The distinction between 'fuck it, nothing matters' and 'fuck it, this matters' is gold. That shift from nihilism to intentionality captures what happens when grief stops being destabilizing and starts becomming clarifying. I found this after losing a close friend two years ago, and the whole urgency around creating and connecting just rampedup in ways I hadn't expected.
“To lose is to win — and to win is to lose, again and again.”
— The Art of Dying
Late-night thinking brought me here.
What does this mean to you?
Like, share, comment 🫶🏾
Thank you for the support 🥺❤️
https://izzyisdoingfine.substack.com/p/to-master-defeat-is-to-master-the?utm_source=direct&r=77ip85&utm_campaign=post-expanded-share&utm_medium=post%20viewer